


behind closed curtains

by gayshina



Series: @ me at my own hands: make some writing you dum fuks [1]
Category: Town of Salem (Video Game)
Genre: (is this unrequited idk...), Alternate Universe - College/University, Drabble, F/F, Unrequited Crush, implied mention of the framer, rated mature just in case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-23 23:30:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7484211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayshina/pseuds/gayshina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[prompt from https://callistawolf.tumblr.com/post/100809913937/swimcoachtachibana-queerlullaby - we live in halls opposite each other and I keep seeing you changing through your window]</p><p>Maybe liked only her appearance, but that was it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	behind closed curtains

**Author's Note:**

> im doing a prompt each day and god fuck if this ends up to me writing town of salem daily  
> key, fleur = bm & sofia = forger
> 
> WHERE DA FEMSLASH AT??????????????????????????????????????????????????????? B O I ,  
> im tagging this entire fanfic wrong. gbye

behind closed curtains.

Fleur definitely was not interested in looking at someone changing their clothing. Never was. It's just that the girl who lives exactly opposite from her just happens to change infront of her.

She doesn't know much about her, though. Her first name was Sofia, which she learnt via her friend. And Sofia was certainly cute, but Fleur never bothered to talk to her. As if she should, the former should talk to Fleur instead. It might be that she gave up on pursuing relationships because of her "bitchy", as her roommate calls it, personality.

But maybe Sofia's unaware that Fleur, or anyone really, could be peeking and shrugs it off as respecting her own privacy or the second opinion the redhead's mind always told her, maybe she was putting on a show for her and her only. But Fleur and her barely talk or even know eachother. Or that's what she thinks.

So behind the closed curtains that are positively horrid and plain, a worn out beige color, definitely sunwashed, a feminine visage appears and is not visible to the sight of hers, Fleur immediately takes place to look at her. How slender arms stretch upwards, sapphire eyes drinking in the sight for sore eyes that was her body, scanning each curve. From her chest that was covered sometimes by strands of hair or wasn't, to her waist and to her hips.

And she wasn't weird. Definitely not weird. And never blushed, never had a real reason to do that. But her mind chanted that she was simply in denial and she ignored it. She didn't like the person who she barely knew. Maybe liked simply her appearance, but that was it.

She has better business to do other than peeking at her which day by day grew into an obscure obsession and a habit to do. But Fleur refuses to acknowledge that.

And definitely didn't ask for her number from her roommate which always seemed to have a brightly colored shirt with some "anime" -as he calls it- characters, like the day she asked it had a girl with a frog like tongue and gloves. Maybe she did ask for the number but it was just to save it in her diary she kept since she was, what, ten? With hearts and all the girly stuff she did, the digits scribbled in red ink.

And maybe after she was over it and fawning over her, and especially she fawning over another person when they should be fawning over Fleur, she'll talk to her about it. Maybe she'd be understanding.

**Author's Note:**

> im at tumblr, @grapplingmaker


End file.
